Chapter 21
MARIYA
I'm already furious. The revelation that Andrey had some kind of understanding with Sophia's family, that he'd been stringing them along for years while he kidnapped and married me, has my blood boiling.
But watching Bogdan turn on his own daughter, watching him blame her for something that she couldn't control…
"Don't you dare blame her for this," I say, my voice low and dangerous as I step between Bogdan and Sophia.
Bogdan's gray eyes snap to me, and I see the rage there intensify. "This doesn't concern you."
"The hell it doesn't." I move closer, my hands still clenched into fists. "You're standing in my husband's house, yelling at your daughter because of decisions you made. Because of expectations you created without any actual agreement."
"Mariya," Andrey says quietly, a warning in his tone.
I ignore him. All the anger I've been holding back, all the frustration and fear and helplessness of the past week, comes pouring out.
"You want to blame someone? Blame yourself.
You pushed for a marriage that was never going to happen.
You built up your daughter's hopes based on nothing but your own ambition. "
Bogdan takes a step toward me, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. "You have no right to speak to me like that. You're nothing but a traitor's daughter."
"And you're nothing but a bully." I don't back down, even though he's taller than me, even though I can see the violence in his eyes. "You're taking out your disappointment on a woman who's done nothing wrong. Sophia didn't fail you. You failed her."
"How dare you—" He takes another step, and suddenly, he's right in front of me, his hand raised.
Before I can even process what's happening, Andrey is there.
He moves so fast it's like he teleports, his body a blur as he shoves himself between us.
His hand wraps around Bogdan's throat, and in one fluid motion, he slams the older man against the wall hard enough that I hear the impact echo through the library.
"Touch her, and you die," Andrey growls, his voice so cold it sends chills down my spine. "Threaten her and you die. Even look at her wrong, and I'll put a bullet in your skull."
Bogdan claws at Andrey's hand, his face turning purple. "Let… go…"
"No one threatens my wife." Andrey's grip tightens. "In any way. Do you understand me?"
Something flutters in my stomach at those words. My wife. He says it with such possessiveness, such absolute certainty, that for a moment, I forget to be angry at him. For a moment, I feel… protected. Safe.
It's a good feeling, for a change. Something I haven't felt in years.
The beast moves from his position by the door, his massive frame blocking any escape route Bogdan might try to take. His hand rests on something at his hip, probably a weapon, and his dark eyes are fixed on Bogdan with deadly intent.
"Andrey," I say quietly. "Let him go."
Andrey doesn't move for several long seconds. Then, slowly, he releases Bogdan's throat and steps back. The older man gasps for air, his hand going to his neck where red marks are already forming.
"Get out of my house," Andrey says, his voice still cold. "And don't come back unless you're invited."
I turn away from the men and look at Sophia. She's still sitting in the chair, her face pale and her eyes wide with shock. Tears continue to stream down her cheeks, and she's trembling.
"Sophia," I say gently. "Can we talk? Just the two of us?"
She glances at her father, worry clear in her green eyes. But after a moment, she nods and stands. I lead her to the far corner of the library, away from the men, and gesture for her to sit in one of the reading chairs tucked into an alcove.
I pull another chair close and sit facing her.
Up close, I can see she's beautiful. Her long black hair is perfectly styled, her makeup flawless despite the tears.
She's wearing a modest dress that shows off her curves, and I can see why Andrey's family might have wanted this match. She looks like the perfect Bratva wife.
"I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry for all of this."
"You have nothing to apologize for." I reach out and take her hand. It's cold and trembling in mine. "None of this is your fault."
"But it is." Fresh tears spill down her cheeks. "It's my duty to bring our families together. To be a good wife to a powerful man. And I failed."
The words make my chest ache. How many times has she been told this? How many years has she spent preparing for a marriage that was never going to happen?
"That's not your duty," I say firmly. "Your duty is to yourself. To be happy. To live a life that's yours, not one that's been planned out for you by men who see you as a bargaining chip."
She shakes her head. "You don't understand. In our world, women are meant to support their families. To make alliances. That's what I was raised to do."
"I understand more than you think." I squeeze her hand.
"My father was part of the Bratva, too. But he also taught me to be strong.
To take care of myself. To never let anyone make me feel like I'm less than I am.
" I pause, thinking about those lessons, about the hours spent in his workshop learning to use tools and fix things.
"Not all women have that. Not all women have fathers who see them as more than just a means to an end. "
Sophia looks at me, really looks at me, and I see something shift in her expression. Curiosity, maybe. Or hope.
"Your father sounds like a good man," she says quietly.
"He was. He is." I'm not sure which tense to use anymore. "But the point is, you're not to blame for this. Andrey never promised to marry you. Your father created expectations that weren't based in reality."
"But I should have been able to make him want me." Her voice drops to barely a whisper. "I should have been more interesting, more attractive, more… something."
Does she realize that she's telling Andrey's wife, me, that she should have done more to win him? I almost shake my head at the absurdity of this conversation.
"Stop." I lean forward, making sure she's looking at me. "You are not responsible for someone else's feelings. Andrey didn't want to marry you, and that's not a reflection on you. It's just… it is what it is."
She's quiet for a long moment, her eyes searching mine. "Do you love him?"
The question catches me off guard. Do I love Andrey? I barely know him. He kidnapped me, locked me up, and forced me to marry him. But he also protected me, gave me orgasms that made me see stars, and made me feel things I've never felt before.
"I don't know," I answer honestly. "This whole situation is complicated."
"He looks at you differently than he ever looked at me." A sad smile touches her lips. "Like you're the only person in the room."
I don't know what to say to that. My stomach does that fluttering thing again, and I push the feeling away.
"You deserve someone who looks at you that way, too," I tell her. "Someone who sees you for who you are, not just which family you come from."
She wipes her eyes, smudging her mascara. "I don't know if that's possible in our world."
"Maybe not. But you can still try." I stand, pulling her up with me. "And you're always welcome here. Anytime you need to talk, or just get away from your father, you can come here."
"Really?" Hope lights up her face.
"Really." I glance over at where Andrey and Bogdan are still facing off, the beast standing between them like a wall.
Since I married the Pakhan, I really should stop referring to his number one, Matvey, as the beast, even if it's only in my personal thoughts.
"Though I can't say the same for your dad. That's up to Andrey."
Sophia follows my gaze and winces. "He's going to be so angry with me."
"That's his problem, not yours." I squeeze her hand one more time. "Remember what I said. You're not to blame for any of this."
She nods, but I can see the doubt in her eyes. Years of conditioning don't disappear in one conversation. But maybe I've planted a seed. Maybe she'll start to see herself differently.
We walk back to where the men are standing. Bogdan has composed himself somewhat, though his face is still red and the marks on his neck are darkening to bruises. He glares at me with such hatred that I instinctively move closer to Andrey.
"We're leaving," Bogdan announces, his voice rough. He grabs Sophia's arm, and she flinches.
"Sophia is welcome back anytime," I say, looking directly at Bogdan. "But you're not. Not unless Andrey invites you."
Bogdan's eyes narrow. "You think you're so clever, don't you? You think marrying him protects you?"
"It does protect her," Andrey says, his voice hard. "She's my wife now. That means she's under my protection. Anyone who touches her answers to me."
"We'll see about that." Bogdan starts toward the door, dragging Sophia with him.
But he pauses at the threshold and turns back.
"This isn't over, Melnikov. I know the real reason you married her.
You think she's going to lead you to Pushkin's treasures.
And when the other families find out, they won't let it stand. "